This House is not a Home
by Stephy Newton
Summary: Melissa Chapman collapsed onto her bed, her face riddled with tears and her eyes red. Her dad's insensitivity crushed her every day. Oneshot, songfic Home, by Three Days Grace. Pretty angsty. Rated T for lyrics and language.


**A/N: Even though this is my first fic, don't go easy on me with the reviews. And yes, Chpman's first name _is_ Hedrick, as specified in _The Andalite Chronicles._** **Ha.**

**I own nothing.

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_I'll be coming home  
__Just to be alone  
__Cause I know you're not there  
__And I know that you don't care  
__I can hardly wait  
__To leave this place_

The bus moaned and sped away from Melissa Chapman. With empty, disbelieving eyes she stared at the space it had occupied about five seconds ago. The gas guzzler had left curls of smoke in its wake. _Home already? _The idea refused to become reality. So instead of proceeding to her house she stood transfixed at the spot.

Melissa had, in the past few months, become increasingly aware of the odd events at home. Mom and dad had _changed, _and at the same time they where more normal than they ever had been. Because every word was right, yet the tone was malicious, numb. Melissa closed her eyes as if someone had just hit her. The new rules... for example: no going downstairs, no going into the basement, and no friends over. All of these absurdities were slowly but surely driving Melissa into some dark corner of her own mind.

Melissa opened her eyes again and it emanated through her being, like she was waking from the most satanic nightmare. Maybe it meant that today was the day her parents finally noticed. The day they stopped being so human they weren't.

"Okay." Her voice was far off. An echo. The only reassurance she had as she opened the door into the hostile home.

_No matter how hard I try  
__You're never satisfied  
__This is not a home; __I think I'm better off alone  
__You always disappear  
__Even when you're here  
This is not my home; I think I'm better off alone  
Home, home, this house is not a  
Home, home, this house is not a home_

The lock clicked and Melissa thrust the door open, "Daddy?"

Only the sound of her echo greeted her.

_Probably in the basement. _Another thing that had changed. Her dad had become a workaholic; spending half his life in school, the other half in the basement. Even stanger, he wouldn't tell her what he was working on, just that it was work. The _forbidden_ basement, Melissa reminded herself bitterly. She never allowed herself to forget the last time she broke that rule. Melissa shuddered as she recalled her father's indifferent, accusing expression as she broke down in sobs. She forced herself to push the memory aside and walked over to the basement door.; Simultaneously tossing her bookbag across the kitchen floor and flinging open the basement door.

"Daddy!" This time it was more of a plea than a question.

Silence ringed in her ears.

Melissa sighed and clutched the doorknob like it was the only thing keeping her up. She so badly wanted toventure downstairs. Just to make sure her dad was okay. The car was in driveway; he should be upstairs to greet her, like old times. _Like old times. _The three three words that Melissa longed more than anything to come to life.

She slumped unto the first stair, peering into the darkness and remembering how dad had told her and Rachel one day that they could make a clubhouse in the basement. It was their hangout way back.

Melissa shook her head and came back to the present. Dad tore the clubhouse down months ago; around the time her and Rachel stopped being friends. The urge to see the basement was overpowering the urge to obey. Maybe he'd understand. She began to descend the stairs with a pure, silky grace.

_By the time you come home  
__I'm already stoned  
__You turn off the TV  
__And you scream at me  
__I can hardly wait  
__Till you get off my case_

The basement used to be warm and cozy. But mosnths of neglect became not only laconic, but home to many insects. Melissa shot a look of disgust at the tiny fleas and spiders that seemed to be eyeing her. "Creepy," Melissa said to herself.

"Melissa?" a raised male voice called. "Is that you?"

_Shit._ It was a realization that stung like a bullet. Her dad was in the basement. She bounded up the stairs like a deer two at a time.

"Melissa!" The voice was getting louder. She positioned herself at the kitchen counter and tried to breathe normally, but two things were inhibiting that. One, the back of her throat stung mercilessly. Two, the adrenaline pumping through her body begged for more. Her dad panted as he appeared in the doorway.

"Why were you in the basement?" Chapman asked angrily. "You know it's off limits."

'Daddy, what are you talking about?" Melissa said innocently. "I've been here, calling your name." She tried so hard to convince him that she almost convinced herself that she never went down there. She tried so hard because she knew the consequences if she didn't.

"Don't lie to me, Melissa," he sighed, calming himself. "Why?"

Her eyebrows raised a fraction of an inch. _Was that a trace of caring?_ She tested it. "Dad, I just wanted to talk to you. Why are you accusing me like this?"

"I know you were down there. Your pale skin is like a beacon down there." Iniss two two three had dug deep in the brain of his host and knew that Melissa was self-conscious about her pale skin. He knew it hurt. The real Hedrick Chapman was pleading with Iniss to have an ounce of humanity towards his daughter. The yeerk simply laughed at the crippled souls; he enjoyed tormenting them. The way humans reacted to lack of emotion was fascinating to him. Melissa was now only a ghost haunting her body.

Melissa watched a smile craap acrss her father's face as he insulted her. Her eyes filled with tears. Tears which she knew wouldn't change a damn thing. Her father began to chuckle as she hid her face beneath a veil of blonde hair. "Daddy," she started. _I hate you._ The three dreadful words danced on her tongue but refused to move any further. She would not stoop down to his level.

"Caught you," he smirked. Then, to truly break Mr. Chapman, Iniss two two three took his daughter's limp hand and lightly grazed the yin-yang charm on her bracelet. "I'm sorry," he said. The most insincere apology. "but you know the rules. Upstairs you go."

Melissa shook her head in disbelief and left the man she once considered Father.

_No matter how hard I try  
__You're never satisfied  
__This is not a home; I think I'm better off alone  
__You always disappear  
Even when you're here  
__This is not my home; I think I'm better off alone  
__Home, Home, this house is not a  
__Home, Home, this house is not a home_

Melissa collapsed onto her bed, her face riddled with tears and her eyes red. Her dad's insensitivity crushed her every day. She imagined a giant hammer coming down on a fragile porcelain doll. The image conjured up more tears. Clutcing her pillow tighter, she felt compelled to stand. Her legs were weak with emotion, and she was temporarily relieved of tears as she focused on standing.

When she was up, her first instinct was to look in the mirror. She turned around to find a girl that was broken inside. The pain her soul felt was finally starting to take a toll on her beautiful body. Melissa's hair was greasy and the rich blonde had turned a sickly yellow. Her face was thin and worn, not to mention red and puffy from crying. Her ribcages were clearly visible from skipping dinner for a month. Anything to avoid her parents. Her eyes held such sadness and reproach. They used to be vibrant and a deep, firey blue. _I can't stay here _and _stay sane. I don't belong anymore._ The thought was the most painful truth, but the truth it was.

As she digested reality she wandered over to the window, no longer able to stare at the creature in the mirror.

_No matter how hard I try  
__You're never satisfied  
__This is not a home I think I'm better off alone  
__You always disappear, even when you're here  
__This is not my home; I think I'm better off alone  
__Home, Home, this house is not a  
__Home, Home, this house is not a home_

Kneeling and staring at the setting sun, Melissa noticed an eagle through her blurred vision. She longed to be free and strong like the animal she was observing. It made her smile through her tears, because watching the bird stop in the air right near her house special. Maybe one day, Melissa entertained herself, she would be like an eagle. _If I bide my time..._ It was only right that she not wallow in a pit of her own despair, but that she promise to make the future brighter. Melissa's tears ceased and she promised herself that oneday she would find a home. And that mom would be kind, and dad would come to his senses. She chuckled at her happiness, and did not feel embarrased to say that she swore the eagle was eyeing her and giving her some of its divine strength.

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You know what I want you to do now...just go ahead and click the little button in the corner of the page. The one that says Go? Yeah, that one. 


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